


Phil's Sex Shop Adventures II

by puptart



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Fluff and Humor, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 23:48:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21024248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puptart/pseuds/puptart
Summary: Phil got a second job working at a sex toy shop. None of his partners are letting him live it down.





	Phil's Sex Shop Adventures II

**Author's Note:**

  * For [straydog733](https://archiveofourown.org/users/straydog733/gifts).

> Written for the LOVELY Alanna (Straydog733 on tumblr). This is somewhat of a continuation of a short fic I wrote ages ago, here: https://puptart.tumblr.com/post/137382360640/oh-my-gosh-but-if-youre-taking-prompts-off-all
> 
> I had SUCH a good time writing this. God, I miss these fools.

It’s a beautiful day as Phil strolls along his usual walking path. It’s not too far from the street, and he can still hear cars motoring by. The low hum of engines and the bird song in the air flows in tune with his own buzzing energy. He had been all full of nerves this morning when he’d gotten up, enough so that Jack had gently refused to fix him a cup of tea, claiming ‘you’ll just shake yourself apart, love’. 

Which... might be fair. Phil hasn’t been so nervous since he first kissed Eugene. Even so, now he’s feeling far more put together. His first day at work hadn’t been nearly so terrifying as he’d been imagining. 

Working at a sex shop is far more low-key than he could have ever imagined. The moment Phil had walked through the door, he had been greeted with a smile and welcomed very warmly. He was shown around the store, told where the break room is, and then he’d been given someone to shadow, a young woman by the name of Amber. She looked very much like she could be the mascot of a baked goods company, all round faced and rosy cheeked. The amount she knows about anal beads had been… fascinating, to say the least. 

Phil whistles and twirls his house key around his finger as he skirts off the path to rejoin the sidewalk, just in time to step up to the blue house he’s been calling home for nearly a year now. He pauses to water the little pot of pansies he’d brought home to brighten the front steps up, then slides his key into the lock. 

“I’m home!” he calls out as he steps in. Shrugging off his jacket, he places it on the coat rack, only to note that two are missing. 

“On the couch,” calls Zoe, just as a loud jingling and thumping comes from the stairs at the right, and down comes Pickles, wailing for attention. Phil scoops the spherical little monster up into his arms, crooning as he walks into the living room. The cat purrs thunderously, and bumps his nose against Phil’s chin enthusiastically.

“Hello, you missed daddy didn’t you? I missed you too, but we’ll just have to get used to being apart more oft-”

“Didn’t we already have this conversation Cheeseman?” Zoe says tiredly, the remote control for the TV gripped lightly in her hand. “The ‘daddy’ thing is entirely illegal.”

“Oh shush,” Phil says, scratching Pickles under the chin. “You don’t have to make _everything _about sex, you know.”

“Says the man who just came from-”

“Yes, yes, I know where I work,” Phil says, cheeks warming. Zoe grins at him sharply.

“Speaking of work-”

Oh here it goes.

“-how was your very first day?” Zoe asks. Her eyes zero in on the large button affixed to his shirt that says ‘First Day on the Job!’ with little pieces of confetti stuck in it like a snowglobe. 

“It was great,” he says truthfully. It had been a great day! It was just as interesting and informative as he’d hope, and he’d gotten to talk to loads of very nice people. He waits for her to laugh at him, but as if knowing he’s not quite in the mood, Zoe instead settles back into the cushions and pats the seat beside her. He sits, Pickles melting contentedly in his lap. 

Zoe pats the cat’s head, then tickles under Phil’s chin playfully. “Good to hear. You know it’s just the honeymoon though, right? Give a month and you’ll be dreading it.”

“You don’t know that,” Phil replies, a touch defensive. Zoe arches an eyebrow, but says nothing more. 

Maybe it _is _a bit of honeymoon; Phil can admit the possibility. He just doesn’t want this good feeling ruined yet. Sure, his second job has become a joke among the four of them (himself included! He _can _laugh at himself), but he genuinely looks forward to being able to go out more often. Zoe and Eugene are content to loaf around the house, with the occasional dinner out, but Phil isn’t like that. Jack is the only one who understands his need to go and interact with people every day. He isn’t himself without other people around. 

“What’s the sourpuss face about?” Zoe asks suddenly. Phil blinks, having been lost in thought.

“Oh, er. Just… Thinking about work,” he says. Zoe purses her lips.

“You know, you don’t _have _to work,” Zoe says, each word spoken with care. “We aren’t rolling in money, but we make enough.”

“I know,” Phil says, confused. “I want to.”

There’s a long quiet moment where Zoe regards him, her keen eyes looking for any sign of insecurity or dishonesty. When she finds none, she nods.

“Alright then. Have you got any of the things off my list, then?”

_“No,” _Phil says, scandalized. Pickles gives a low meow of displeasure at the disturbance, and slinks off of his lap to find a quieter napping spot. “It’s my first day, I wasn’t going to look like a sex crazed maniac on my _first day_.”

“Your first day as a purveyor of dildos, ticklers, and warming lubes, you mean?” Zoe asks sweetly.

Phil smacks her with a pillow, and storms away to go upstairs and take a shower. The absolute nerve of some people. 

***

One week in, three shifts later, Phil returns from a day of restocking and ringing up people’s many, varied, and _interesting _purchases. As usual, he’s had quite a few pleasant conversations about said purchases as well. Not everyone is eager to discuss their toys, but quite a few people seem to be of the same mind as Phil. The day had practically flown right under his nose, and all too soon he found himself clocking out to go home. 

“I’m home,” Phil calls, hanging his jacket and keys at the door, then heading right up the stairs. He’s only a few steps up when Jack pokes his head out of the kitchen. 

“Welcome back,” he says, eyeing Phil. “Off to take a shower?”

Phil pauses. “Er, yeah I am. How’d you know?”

With a chuckle, Jack comes over and leans on the railing to grin up at Phil. “Every day you’ve gotten home from work for the past three weeks you’ve gone up to take a shower as soon as you can.”

“Have I?” Phil thinks back and realizes, yes, he has. He shrugs. “And?”

“And you do it after sex, too,” Jack says, eyelids drooping in a sly, sort of sleazy way. “You getting horny at work, Phil?”

A hot rush floods Phil’s face, and he sputters, “Wh- No, of course not!”

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

“Really, really sure?” Jack sing songs. 

“I hate you, and I’m going to take a shower so I don’t have to listen to your nonsense anymore,” Phil says with a sniff, turning away. A hand catches his belt, nearly yanking him down the damned stairs. “Jack!”

“Don’t you at least want a _reason _to feel dirty enough for a shower?” Jack asks, sugary sweet. 

Phil squints. “Was all that really just you looking for an excuse for sex?”

Jack gasps in offense. _“Phillip _Cheeseman, how dare you.”

Phil squints harder.

“It was also to get you to blush,” Jack admits. Phil rolls his eyes.

“Well,” he says, sighing deeply. “I suppose you may as well make it up to me.”

“That’s the spirit,” Jack grins broadly, giving Phil’s belt another tug before taking his arm back over the railing. Phil walks back down, and for all that he’s a handful of inches taller, Jack’s got no problem manhandling any of the three of them. 

He’s lead to the living room (or dragged, depending on one’s definition), and summarily pushed backwards onto the couch. A rush of air escapes his lungs as he hits the cushions, but before he can complain, Jack slings a leg over his hips and straddles him like he’s mounting a horse. Big, gentle hands make deft work of his belt, button, and zipper. It’s almost enough to leave Phil breathless as his trousers and pants are tugged out of the way, and Jack wraps his hand around him. 

“It’s almost too bad we don’t have any lube,” Jack sighs in an offhand way as he strokes Phil slow and loose. “It’s been forever since I’ve taken on ride on the Cheeseman Machine. I suppose my mouth will have to do.”

Phil’s face heats up, hating the ‘Cheeseman Machine’ joke and being turned on by it all in the same go. To move past _that_, he reaches down to fumble in his pocket, which is all bunched up. Jack watches curiously as Phil struggles valiantly, before producing a tiny bottle and presenting it to Jack. 

Jack’s hand goes still, and his eyes go wide.

“My god, you actually have lube,” Jack says. There’s a beat as he continues to stare, and Phil squirms, before Jack just bursts into helpless laughter. “Did you nick that from work?”

“No!” Phil frowns, all arousal just disappearing in a puff of smoke. “Get off-”

“Aw, you’ve gone soft,” Jack says, glancing down at Phil’s lap. He looks back up to Phil, still smiling, but struggling against it. “Sorry, love, I’m just teasing-”

“Yes, I am aware that’s what you’re doing,” Phil says, feeling very fussy indeed as he pushes himself upright. He tries shoving Jack off, but he’s solid as a boulder, and he croons at Phil, tugging him closer by the shirt and… and kissing at Phil’s neck… Which feels very, very nice… Phil fights a groan.

“So where’d you get it?” Jack asks, voice soft and breath warm on Phil’s ear. Phil shudders.

“The store gets samples of products,” Phil explains. “There’s a bunch in the storage room, and we’re encouraged to pick one a day, so we can try them out and give honest reviews of the products.”

“Oho,” Jack says, leaning back with a sparkle in his eye. “Well then. I’m more than happy to help you do your research for work, darling. Are there more samples?”

“No,” Phil says. He clears his throat, which has gone suddenly dry as Jack drags the very tips of his fingers over Phil’s lower belly. “I- I can get some more though. Tomorrow.”

“Excellent plan. You’re so smart, you know that?” Jack cheerfully plucks the bottle of lube from Phil’s hand, and pops it open. Phil watches him squeeze a glob on his fingers, warming it up swiftly before reaching down to stroke at Phil once again. “Now about that ride…?”

“Yes,” is all Phil is capable of saying. “Yes. Uh, yes.”

Jack chuckles, hiding it with a kiss. 

*****

It’s a slow day in the shop today. There hasn’t been a single customer in since an older woman and her girlfriend came in around 10, and it’s already past lunch now. There’s some shifting happening back in the storage room as Amber’s taking her turn at doing inventory. The music playing over the speaks has looped around again, and Phil thinks he might start going mad if nothing happens in the next ten minutes. 

He gets up and starts front facing all the stock, even though he’s already done it twice today, just for something to do. While he’s at it, he replaces the batteries in a few of the display models that have been a little sluggish. 

While he’s putting batteries in one of the slim, and honestly rather handsome vibrators, the bell over the door chimes, and his whole demeanor turns around. Finally, a customer!

“Hello, welcome to Treas-” Phil’s words die as he turns to face the customer, only to see Eugene Woods in the middle of his store, glancing around the store, hands in his pockets, taking it all in as casually as if he were in a coffee shop. After a moment, he turns and locks eyes with Phil, who feels all the blood rush from his face.

“Howdy,” Eugene says, playing up his accent. “I’ve never been in one of these before. Think you can help me?”

That is a big, fat lie, but Phil cannot even find the words to express this. The moment he regains control of his senses, Phil hustles across the floor and hisses, “What are you doing here?”

“Me?” Eugene asks, leaning back with a hand over his chest. “Why, I’m here to shop. Is there a problem, Mr… Cheeseman, is it?”

“My name tag says ‘Phil’,” he replies dryly. Eugene just grins. 

There’s one of two ways this can go. Either Phil throws a fit and puts his foot down, and Eugene leaves now only to do something _later _to get under his skin… Or Phil humors him, and allows Eugene to have his fun now. 

Not that Eugene would really do anything awful, he just likes to be an annoying prick, and it’s actually really entertaining so long as Phil isn’t the one he’s currently trying to annoy.

Dragging his hand down his face, Phil knows the best recourse is to just get it over with. At least if Eugene picks on him over the sex toy job now, he’s less likely to keep bringing it up. Plus, there’s no other customers at the moment.

When he looks back to Eugene, he sees him just standing and staring back at him, waiting patiently. If Phil told him to go, he would definitely go, no fit throwing required. 

“...How may I help you?” Phil asks, suddenly very tired. He ignores the thump of his heart when Eugene’s smile returns.

“I’m looking for something to take home, but I’m not quite sure what’s best,” Eugene says. “I’ve never bought anything like this. Think you can help me pick?”

Phil wets his lips. Quietly, he says, “I need to stay professional.”

“Oh, I agree entirely,” Eugene says, clearing his throat to cover a laugh. “Please, Mr. Phil, I just need help finding something to fu-”

_“Gene.”_

Eugene just keeps smiling blithely until Phil gives in and leads him over to the grand wall of toys. “As we go, just point out anything you’re interested in.”

They make it two steps before Eugene halts in front of a thruster. It isn’t turned on, so as to not waste power, but from the look of sheer delight on Eugene’s face, Phil has to guess he knows what it does.

“That one,” Eugene says, pointing. With faux innocence, he asks, “What is it?”

“This one, er,” Phil gestures to the model Eugene had asked about. “It has a motor inside which allows it to… thrust.”

“Fascinating,” Eugene says. “I don’t suppose that model works?”

“It does,” Phil says. He reluctantly takes it down, and hands it to Eugene, who hits the power button. Immediately the toy begins to extend and contract slowly, until Eugene starts messing with the settings to turn it up. It’s powerful enough that he almost loses his grip on it as it jackhammers wildly in the air. He’s laughing as he dials the power back down.

“Wow,” he says. “This one packs a nice punch. I’ll have to add it to my list, I think.”

“You lot and lists,” Phil sighs. Eugene gives him a half lidded smirk.

“Anything else you can recommend?” Eugene asks. Phil thinks, and gestures him over to a wall of masturbation sleeves.

“I can’t say I’ve tried any myself, but this one has great reviews,” he says, taking the model down and placing it in Eugene’s waiting hand. It’s one of the more expensive sleeves they have, but Phil had been delighted by the abstract shape of it, and also by how little it looks like any human anatomy. Eugene turns it this way and that, and _horrifyingly _sticks his finger inside.

“Oh, that’s an interesting texture,” Eugene says, too delighted to not be teasing. Phil currently wishes the ground would swallow him up whole. If nothing else, he is so glad that there isn’t another soul in the store. 

The bell over the door rings, followed by quiet chattering. Phil spins around and does his best to hide Eugene’s _exploring _with his body.

“Hello,” Phil croaks out on reflex, as a young couple strolls in. He’s seen them in a few times, and they wave cheerily at him as they go about their perusing. 

“So what are some that you can recommend based on first person experience?” Eugene asks, loud enough for his voice to carry. Phil gives him a death glare, but Eugene just smiles back at him. 

“...None,” Phil grits out. He takes the well pleasured toy from Eugene and places it back on the rack.

“Huh,” Eugene says. “I heard from Jack that you get freebies here.”

“Yeah, but not on _these_,” Phil says, gesturing to the wall of sex toys. 

That’s not actually strictly true. Sometimes companies send out a few samples of toys for the employees to try out so they can give honest recommendations, but Phil hasn’t yet participated in any such giveaway. Even so, Phil can only imagine that saying as much will be opening a can of worms the like of which he can’t handle. 

Eugene scratches his stubbled chin thoughtfully, then sidles down the row to a few of the nicer silicone dildos. 

“Golly,” he says, picking one up in the bisexual pride flag colors. “I wonder how we could help you out, so you could be more effective at your job?”

“I’m plenty effective,” Phil protests weakly, his eyes far too captured by the play of Eugene’s fingers over the toy’s surface. His very long, very elegant fingers, which are doing things to the toy that are intimately familiar to Phil. 

Just as he thinks he might _actually _evaporate on the spot, Eugene purrs, “Don’t I know it.”

It takes him several very long moments to realize that Eugene has strolled off, heading for the counter, with Phil stuck in place, utterly stupefied. When he does notice, he immediately jogs for the register. Eugene is already poking through all the cheap bins, and has rather concerningly picked a blue raspberry flavored throat numbing spray to go with his dildo. 

“That’ll be £45.86,” he says. Eugene swipes his card while Phil bags the purchase.

“I bet you’re wondering what my plans for those are-” Eugene starts, but Phil sends him a look that cuts him right off. 

“I’m sure I’ll find out,” he says dryly. Eugene chuckles, accepting the bag and the receipt. 

“Have a good one,” Eugene says, giving a cheeky wink, then just merrily strolls right out of the shop, swaggering far too much to be decent. 

The nerve. 

Springing out from the backroom the moment Eugene is gone, and scaring the life out of Phil, Amber demands, “Who was that guy, Phil?”

“A dickhead,” Phil replies. Amber is thrown for a moment by the language, but she hardly notices when he mutters an apology.

“He’s a beautiful dickhead,” she says, a light blush on her cheeks.

Phil declines to respond.

***

One of the most time honored traditions in the Woods-Holden-Crick-Cheeseman household is the post-podcast upload Mario Kart tournament while waiting for celebratory take away Chinese to be delivered. None of his partners were very pleased that he would be missing it for an ‘errand’, but Phil stood firm and told them to get started without him. 

The sounds of bickering from the living room as he returns tells him that he wasn’t missed too badly. No one even hears him come in, too absorbed are they in who’s ‘bullshit blue shell’ killed who. 

All eyes are on him as he comes in with two large fabric bags, and places them on the coffee table. The contents rattle and thump as it settles, and the attention shifts from the TV screen, to him, to the now visible end of a spreader bar poking out from one of the bags. 

“Pause it,” Eugene says. “Zoe, pause it. Pause the-”

“I’m bloody trying!” Zoe fumbles with her remote, until the sounds of engines and music go quiet. Jack’s grin is blinding.

“You did the lists?” he asks, as surprised as he is delighted. Phil’s cheeks warm.

“Yes, well.” He wants to tug at his collar, which is overly warm now, but he forces his hands to not fidget. “Today has been one month since I started my second job, which means they’ve instituted my employee discount. I thought I’d pick up some… presents.”

Eugene smiles. “Wow, that’s really-”

His words are interrupted by Zoe and Jack descending on the bags immediately, digging for their items. Phil worries for a moment, having not mentioned he didn’t get _everything _they asked for, because he doesn’t exactly have five grand lying about, but neither of them mentions missing anything. 

Zoe resurfaces, clutching a lilac two ended dildo in her fist, and shouting, “A FEELDOE! Oh, Phil, you really _were _paying attention.”

“Is the color okay?” he asks. Zoe grins at him, eyes sparkling.

“The color is perfect.”

“Who asked for a sleeve?” Jack asks, eyebrow cocked as he pulls out one of the nicer, clear silicone masturbation sleeves the store has. Before Phil can answer, Eugene leans across Zoe and plucks it out of Jack’s grasp.

“I’ll have that, thank you.”

“Phil,” Zoe says, having next gone for the bag with the spreader bar in it, and coming back up with a feather tickler. Her gaze is accusatory, and the back of his neck warms. “Phillip Cheeseman.”

“I asked for that one,” Jack says. Zoe looks surprised, but Eugene just snorts. “What? I thought it would be fun for us to try something new.”

“So this is yours too, then?” Zoe asks, yanking the spreader bar out.

“Correct,” Jack says, pleased with himself. 

“Then…” Eugene pokes into the bags again, just to confirm that they’re both empty. “Phil, what did you get?”

“Oh, er, nothing,” Phil says. He waves off their looks. “I didn’t want anything, honestly.”

His partners all exchange a worrying look before turning back on him.

“You know, Phil deserves a reward for all his hard work at the shop,” Eugene says. Zoe nods.

“Absolutely. Don’t you agree?” she asks Jack, tickling him with the feathered stick under the chin. 

Jack pokes her side to make her stop, then gives Phil a dark, hungry look. “He does. How do we all feel about letting him break in the new toys?”

None of them answer, clearly all waiting for Phil’s okay before jumping him, as they’re wont to do. 

Phil wets his lips, and undoes the first button on his shirt. Three pairs of eyes follow the action. 

“Alright,” he says, his pa. “Just not on the couch.”


End file.
